


oh, how badly things have gone

by Sedusa



Series: Be More Chill one-shots [9]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: And NONE of you can stop me, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Graphic Description, I WILL make as much darkfic as I want, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mild Ableism, Parent/Child Incest, Rape, This isn't even my final form, Trans Male Character, Transphobia, Underage Rape/Non-con, corrective rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 14:35:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20622644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedusa/pseuds/Sedusa
Summary: Hands pressed on his shoulders, forcing him to kneel. He looked up, at the stains on his father’s shirt and the unforgiving blueness of his eyes. Finger’s wove into his hair. “Go on. Say hello.”





	oh, how badly things have gone

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the warnings. Written by a trans man, so spare me the outrage. Comments may go moderated on whim. Feel free to send suggestions to @full-course-identity on Tumblr and/or Dreamwidth.  
(Also, I apologize if I keep editing the title. I'm never satisfied.)

Life was supposed to be better now.

The Squip had come and gone. His whole world had shaken up, he fought with an old friend and came back stronger, and his social circle had expanded to fit several broken misfits. A normalcy fell on him now that would’ve looked impossible months ago. Everything was different. Everything was _ good _.

All except for his father.

The apartment was cleaner than ever, most of the grease stains scrubbed and the biggest trash piles gone; yet, the kitchen suddenly seemed so much smaller than it had been before, as he slowly stepped backwards only to find himself pressed against the wall.

Mr. Heere’s eyes twinkled in a way that used to be comforting. His unkempt beard, full of food speckles and weeks old drool, shook with each mouth movement. This caused little bits of spittle to smack onto Jeremy’s face, painting him in a freckled pattern. “You just remind me so much of her, Bethany.”

‘Her’ being his father’s lost love. A wince came for the use of his deadname, and the comparison. His dad had mentioned _ her _ multiple times recently, after the Play shook him out of his depression and into… _ something_. He wasn’t acting like Jeremy knew him to. It was like he’d been corrupted, the little personality peculiarities souring with some sort of all-consuming fungus, taking over everything. 

Which wouldn’t have been impossible to handle. Jeremy had been coaxing him towards psychiatric intervention anyway, so even though the idea left him sick with guilt, he was prepared to get Michael to help hospitalize him as a last resort.

_ Except. _

Right here, right now, Mr. Heere’s cock had been pulled from his crusty boxers as he tugged himself in slow strokes right before Jeremy’s trapped eyes.

His skin felt clammy. His nails dug into his palms, and he was unable to look anywhere but straight at a mushroom-headed bull’s eye, adrenaline pounding high in his ears yet at a loss to what he was supposed to do. “... dad, I have to… uh. I have to g-go to school.”

It was a Saturday. Mr. Heere laughed. “You’re so silly, Bethy. We have the whole day to ourselves.” His smile turned gentle, almost sad. “You spend so much time away from me. I have no one, Bethany. Your mother ruined my social life and my old flame is dead. It’s just you. Just you, and yet you keep running away from me.”

Jeremy finally reacted with a wince. Guilt licked at his throat. “H-hey, wait, that’s not--”

“It’s okay. I know.” Slowly, he inched closer, his hand still on his shaft as the other tucked a strand of Jeremy’s fluff-like hair behind his ear. “You’re almost 18, you don’t want to be hanging around your crummy old man. And you still think you’re a boy, rightr?” His lips tugged in amusement. “You were so sure of yourself that I actually believed you. But look at you, you’re so much like her. It’s no coincidence, is it? You were _made_ for me.”

And then he was pulling at Jeremy’s cardigan. He tried to hold on, a brief moment of struggle, only for his father to kiss him.

It was so shocking, so _ disgusting _, that Jeremy froze. He let his hands go limp, the removal of the cardigan followed by the unbuttoning of his jeans. One hand cupped his cheek, and his father’s slimy tongue wormed into his mouth, tasting of milk and tooth decay.

He was too stunned to stop his father from pulling his shirt off. He’d removed his binder yesterday from mid-fertility chest soreness, and had decided to leave it off today to let himself rest. Now he’d never regret anything as much as he did that, the what-if’s swirling together. If his father had struggled with it, with there’d been a delay, if he’d just snapped out of his fear for a single moment, maybe he could’ve pulled away--

\--but instead, his breasts filled Mr. Heere’s hands, a solid triple-D cup making him bigger than those meaty palms. Jeremy nearly sobbed, every emotion swelling in him at once as his pale pink nipples were pinched between thumb and forefinger, shocks of terrified arousal coursing through him. 

His hormonal body ignored his horror, making him grow wetter by the second.

He was groped like this, the occasional sharp twist making him whimper and moan, for a long time. Lips found his neck; the bite was soft, but unpleasant, as was the sucking that followed. His father would do this in a spot until he was sure a mark had been left, only to move directly after, to a new patch he wished to bruise.

Finally, his nipples were tugged, pulling him until he couldn’t get any closer; to his horror, his dad’s fat genitals rubbed against his navel, coarse, matted pubes scratching his stomach. The mouth came off him with a pop of saliva. Voice low in his ear, Mr. Heere chucked. “Get on your knees, Bethy. Make daddy feel good.”

His breasts were dropped as hands pressed on his shoulders, forcing him to kneel. He looked up, at the stains on his father’s shirt and the unforgiving blueness of his eyes. Finger’s wove into his hair. “Go on. Say hello.”

Jeremy cringed, and finally looked at the cock again.

The tip was a bright, angry reddish-purple, lacking any corona ridge, giving it the look of a shiny cap with an oddly gaping slit. Crowning it, the circumcision scar much wider than normal. Jeremy had spent a lot of time staring at penises after he’d stumbled into his identity as a bisexual, but nothing quite looked like Mr. Heere’s. If this was anyone else, he might’ve been fascinated; instead, he wanted to throw up.

One of the hands left his hair to grab the shaft. His dad leaned a little closer, then smacked the meat against his cheek, making Jeremy’s ears heat up in humiliation. “Staring is impolite, Bethany.” Amused. “Open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Jeremy followed his order, obedient. Mr. Heere let go of his shaft, his cock pointing straight at Jeremy’s nose, to fondle his sack. He squeezed himself until beads of precum started to form at the gaped slit. 

Hand back to the hilt, he guided himself to smear his glands against Jeremy’s tongue, the nauseating taste of sour salt and flesh kneading into him. His dad cooed some incomprehensible praise, Jeremy’s hearing impaired by a rush of blood. A second later, he let his mouth open wider to accommodate his father’s size as he slid inside.

“Good girl, ohh, _ such _ a good girl, taking all of daddy’s dick.” He cut through Jeremy’s attempts to dissociate, petting his hair and looking down at him. “You love this. Don’t you? Yeah you do. Take it, baby.”

The word _ baby _ made his stomach lurch, but he didn’t have time to think about it--at that moment, Mr. Heere thrust forward while pulling Jeremy’s head closer, abruptly slamming his cock in to the hilt. 

Jeremy gagged. He tried to squirm away, panicking, but his father held him there as his hips bucked and he began to fuck Jeremy’s throat. One hand gripped his hair so tightly the nails dug into his scalp, while the other went to his nose and plugged it, forcing him to gurgle around the cock as he tried to breathe.

And then, just as fast as it had begun, it stopped. Mr. Heere pulled Jeremy’s neck back so he was forced to look into his eyes.

“You’re gorgeous.”

Jeremy’s tears ran in rivers down his cheeks to mingle with a copious amount of drool. His eyes were just as swollen pink as his lips, aching all the same. His whole face felt like it’d been slammed into a door repeatedly, and briefly, he wondered if he’d pass out.

Instead, he was pushed backwards. 

He knew what was coming next. The moment his shirt had been pulled off, he could tell where this was going. He stared at the ceiling above, as he felt his body dragged some ways from the wall, followed by his pants being pulled off. 

His dad paused at his briefs. There was a soft laugh, as he ran a finger against the impression of Jeremy’s lips. “Tidy-whities?” A laugh. “So childish. You’d make a terrible son.”

It stung. But he couldn’t think about that, his mind already filling with haze as Mr. Heere slipped the underwear down his thighs and off his legs.

Splayed out, naked and bare and ready for consumption, Jeremy looked like a doll. His skin was a pale cream, sickly, giving him the appearance of porcelain that paired perfectly with his excessive hip-to-waist ratio. He was a collection of (un)lucky wins in the genetic lottery, and truly, it was no wonder his father wanted him.

Secretly, everyone else wanted to rip him apart too.

Mr. Heere gripped his knees and slowly eased his thighs apart, staring with the intensity one might give a present waiting to be unwrapped. He sucked in a breath. Once Jeremy’s cunt was fully exposed, pretty pink labia sparkling in the fluorescent light in their kitchen, he nearly lost himself. How embarrassing would it be, to cum this early? He reached down, squeezing his cock tightly until the impending orgasm was starved off for the moment. He shuffled forward. 

“You want me inside you,” He was almost quiet now, leaning forward to kiss Jeremy. “Come on, Bethany. Say it. Say you want me inside you.”

Jeremy stared at him. One hand had found his breast, his father using nails to pinch a sharp warning. He closed his eyes. “I wan… I w-w-want you.”

“Want you… what, Bethy?”

“Inside mm, me.”

“You want me inside you?” He smiled. “Doing _ what? _” 

Bile licked at Jeremy’s--at _ Bethany’s_\--throat. “Fucking me.” When Mr. Heere didn’t move, he grimaced. “I… I-I want you to, um, to ff, fuck me. Fuck me. P-please, fuck me. _ Daddy. _”

His father let his eyes close as he laughed, the sound almost gentle. “Well, if you insist.”

And then he fucked Jeremy on their dirty kitchen floor, rhythm switching from slow and intimate thrusts, to fast and anxious spasms at random. He accused Jeremy of not being a virgin, his cunt having taken him so easily, and while the concept seemed to nibble at some repressed memory he didn’t want to know, he knew it was just his own disgusting arousal reaction to the stimulus of his father’s molesting fingers.

Still, it allowed Mr. Heere to create a convenient slutty narrative around his darling _ Bethany _, rationalizing all of this as simply giving Jeremy what he already wanted. This was encouraged by Jeremy’s whimpering orgasm minutes later, which pushed his father to cum in him, balls deep, after. 

A few deep breaths after, and then he told Bethy to lay there as he walked to the bathroom. Jeremy couldn’t build up the strength to move, so he complied, laying limp. A moment later Mr. Heere was back, proclaiming he’d “just taken a pick-me-up” as he got down to press against Jeremy once more. 30 more minutes of disgusting kisses and rutting later, he was hard again, and so he turned Jeremy over and took him from behind.

They fucked like this for hours. Every time it seemed like it might end, something was done to keep the torture going. Cock was swapped for toys was swapped for random objects, Mr. Heere delighting in playing with his daughter’s body like the doll she was. 

When he was finally exhausted enough to want rest, he gently scooped Jeremy up and walked him to the tub. Placing him inside, he smiled. “I know you worry about keeping yourself clean. I’ll let you shower, baby girl.” He kissed his forehead. “You did so good today. You’ve truly made daddy proud.”

And then he turned the shower faucet on ice cold, letting Jeremy jerk up, gasping, as Mr. Heere walked out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> Everything is the start of a hello yesterday AU if you squint hard enough.  
... I have like 5 different things that are half-completed and that I intend to finish, but I decided to drop everything and write this first instead.  
Here's to hoping my next submission is an update to TDAYD and not a 50k Harry Potter fic. It's a fucking toss-up which one I'll finish first.


End file.
